Unexpecting the Unexpected
by Sexy Blizzard
Summary: What happens when Harry finds out the truth isn't exactly what he expected? When his world turns upside down and everything he knows is question: it all comes down to the path he chooses. Will he walk that darkened path that will lead him to his own salvation? Or will the light continue to blind and consume him like an acid until there is nothing left of his soul?
1. Chapter One: The Rise of the Dark Lord

**CHAPTER ONE - The Rise of the Dark Lord**

**A/N Ok guys, I'm going to be using some of the lines from Harry Potter and the Goblet of fire. This is Voldemort's rising from his perspective. All Rights to JK Rowling. Also, this will be a more basic version of this story because I've heard that fan fiction is going around deleting stories that are a little juicy ;) So I've not got a blog containing the more mature version of this story which I will be posting on my page. Thank you all! Enjoy!**

**DISCLAIMER: I own not the characters I just own the thread**  
**And we all play in the imaginary sandbox I built-in my head**  
**so thank you J.K. Rowling for the chance to play**  
**the harry potter game in the imaginary sandbox today.**

*** H/V * H/V * H/V * H/V * H/V * H/V * H/V * H/V * H/V * H/V * H/V ***

It was almost time for the ritual to begin. Almost time once again to have Harry Potter within my grasp. To end it all where it never should have begun. That boy would not be the death of me

"Everything is prepared my lord. They have arrived as planned."

"Good, good. It is time than."

I felt him gently and carefully pick up my body. I was strong from the milk Nagini had offered to me but not by much. Still, it was strong enough for this. The voice of Potter carried to my sensitive hearing on the wind.

_"Where are we?"_

He didn't sound afraid or terrified...yet. Just confused, as though he was trying to figure something. I heard something I didn't expect, than. Another voice after Harry's. I heaved a mental sigh of fatigue. Were my Deatheaters always this sloppy? I didn't specifically remember them being so but it would have to do. After all, he'd gotten the boy this far.

_"Did anyone tell you the cup was a portkey?"_

_"Nope is this supposed to be part of the task?"_

_"I dunno. Wands out, d'you reckon?"_

_"Yeah,"_

_"Someone's coming."_

Their wands were drawn and they looked weary, as though trying to figure out if this was still part of the task. Foolish boy. Foolish friend. But than again, the taller one was a Hufflepuff.

Wormtail carried me carefully through the graves, cradling me like a child (to my utter disgust). However, seeing as I was physically unable to coordinate my own movement, it was logical. But _Soon._

As we neared closer to the boys, they slightly lowered their wands, more confused than before, than turning back to watch. I hated being looked at, being stared as if I were a puzzle someone needed to figure out. That was the way _he_ always looked at me. As though I wasn't human. And now, I'm not.

It's rumored he's the only wizard I ever feared. Oh how woefully ignorant is my simply _adoring_ public. No. I didn't fear him. I despised him. Hated him. In fact more so than Potter. Potter couldn't kill me, nor did he mean to. But _him_...I always knew that bastard would be the death of me when I told him no. When I told him I had no interest in his manipulations, his games. I always knew he would find a way to kill me when I told him to stuff it. I told him exactly where he could stick his little prophecy. This is what has come of me.

Apparently, Dumbledore never learned from his mistakes.

I motioned gently for Wormtail to stop, who flinched at my touch. Disgusting rat that he was, he had his uses. We stopped beside a gravestone, from what I could sense about six feet from them. And than the boy fell to his knees, groaning, holding his scar. The wand in his hand slipped from his fingers and his knees buckled. The pain was worse than that of the cruciates, I knew. Whenever I was near him, he would be forced to relive the same pain I felt when I was pulled from my body. And the closer I was to the boy, the more of my pain he would feel. And he deserved every bit. Another perk to sharing blood. He would feel more of my pain.

The other inconsequential boy I hadn't recognized or cared for knelt down as Harry screamed for him to run. The time was long past for running. "Kill the spare."

Wormtail made a silly swishing movement as he screeched the killing curse. A true wizard wouldn't have to swish their wand at all. Merely tap it. After all, it was just a tool through which we channeled our power. My sensitive ears also didn't appreciate the screaming. But it would soon be him, not me, who would be the one in pain.

A blast of familiar comforting green light blazed through my eyelids, and something heavy thudded to the ground. I sensed it moving no more. Thanks to my past rituals regarding snakes, I was more sensitive in this form to noises, light, texture, taste, and temperature. Me and Nagini now shared much the same traits than we had before. I would forever appreciate her gifts. Snakes truly were magnificent creatures.

I felt pain as Wormtail set me down on the rough grass. The bundle's texture was soft as silk, thankfully, but the blades were corse. Rough. They chaffed against the only layer of skin I had and as I felt one digging into my side, I winced. But soon, it would all be over. Thank Merlin.

I watched as he lit his wand and pulled Harry to his feet, dragging him toward Tom Riddles headstone. He would rest in the tomb of my father. And die as my father did. By my hand. But I had to give the boy this much. He had courage. He didn't struggle or scream. He simply sat there for a moment, looking calmly for a way out. It made me wonder how many _other_ times the boy had been faced with death besides our little "run ins'. It was, to say the least,...interesting.

Covered in cords from the neck to the ankles, I watched as Wormtail conjured more of them around Harry, tying him to his fate. Harry seemed to think he could escape Wormtail who began to breathe faster as he struggled more with keeping him tied down. Than hitting him, he continued his job. I wasn't surprised to know that he knew his attacker.

"You!" he gasped.

But Wormtail, who had finished conjuring the ropes, did not reply; he was busy checking the tightness of the cords, his fingers trembling uncontrollably, rumbling over the knots. Once sure that Harry was bound so tightly to the headstone that he couldn't move an inch, Wormtail drew a length of some black material from the inside of his cloak and stuffed it roughly into Harry's mouth; then, without a word, he turned from Harry and hurried away.

I felt Nagini moving towards me, slithering through the grass, circling the headstone where Harry was tied only once before she came to me and wrapped me up to keep me warm. We'd all been preparing for this day. Wormtail by going over the ritual repeatedly. Harry by playing in the tournament. Barty Crouch Jr. by setting Harry up perfectly. And of course, my Nagini by laying near the fire and keeping herself warm constantly and storing the heat to give to me. It was not something that snakes normally did. But all she wanted was to make the transition easier for me. She was the only one who cared. The only one who came to find me when I 'died'. She returned to me out of loyalty. Not out of fear. She cared for me. She was the reason I didn't need any friends...nor want any.

I flinched as Wormtail's fast wheezy breathing grew louder again, grating on my low tolerance nerves. I saw him moving the cauldron towards me and was excited to begin. Nagini coiled herself around me tighter, as if to keep me from moving.

_Her tone sounded more in awe than caring. "It will all be over sssoon."_

_"Yes, I'm aware of that."_

_"Asss you sssshould be. You poured over the ritual enough. With all thossse booksss you were reading and the little amount of planning you were doing, I thought you'd finally gone sssenile."_

_"As if I would ever settle as a librarian."_

_"It would sssuit you."_

_"Quiet you."_

_"Yesss...My Lord. Too bad you don't have robesss to kissssss...yet."_

_"Why do I put up with you?"_

_"Becaussse Wormtail annoysss you."_

_"And you don't?"_

_"No, I feed you hatchling."_

_"As if. I was there when your egg produced its first crack."_

_"But you need taking care of."_

_"I won't soon. And remember, this means nothing. You are still mine."_

_"Asss you are mine masssster. Are you nervousss?"_

_"It could not possibly be worse than what I went through when my soul was pulled from my body."_

_"Hold your breathe." She suggested._

_"No, I actually fancy gulping in copious amounts of fluid and cutting off my air passage ways."_

She let out a hissy laugh, which was cut off when I flinched. How _did_ she deal with it?

Wormtail's fast, wheezy breathing grew louder as he pushed the obsidian stone cauldron across the ground. It looked adequate. By my calculations, its height and circumference would be sufficient for when I arose-when I arose, not "if". It truly was only a matter of time. He pushed the cauldron to the front of the grave where..._he, _the-boy-who-lived, sat, tied to the stone. I hadn't thought of him once since I was...brought here.

He'd grown since I'd last seen him. His hair was longer. His ankle was twisted. I thought about healing it for a moment. But Slytherins don't fight fair. Yes. That was our motto.

Wormtail was pointing his wand at the bottom of the cauldron _trying_ to get a fire going, failing miserably. The air here was too misty, too humid, to ignite any kind of flame. It would be put out before you tried. What he should do is create a vortex of a small space of energy where there is no humid air and then ignite a controlled fire and let air back in to further control it. But no he couldn't do it the easy way. So instead, he gathered grass and set that on fire. He was lucky that it stayed in one spot. The idiot.

Nagini was right. He _did_ annoy me. The real question was, why did I keep Wormtail around. But than again, Wormtail was useful. A coward to be sure, but a useful one.

_"Wow, that's warm."_

_"I'm surprised you aren't insensitive to warm as much as you've been around the fireplace."_

_"I was storing heat for this moment, when you would need it the most. That potion will not be pleasant so I'm heightening your body __temperature so you don't get burns."_

I always knew I chose the right egg, despite what the hatcher said.

Suddenly, the heat intensified and the surface began to send out fiery sparks. I stopped the grass from burning up with a small charm that Wormtail should have had the foresight to place. The steam thickened, obscuring my sight of the boy for a moment. I was becoming increasingly impatient. The potion should have been ready the moment I got here.

"Hurry!"

The diamond encrusted waves of water nearly blinded my eyes.

"It is ready. Master."

_You think, you incompetent fool?_

"Now."

He began pulling the robes away from my body and the first thing I was aware of (aside from the insufferable cold) was the boy struggling to flee as he screamed into the wad of material obscuring the interior of his mouth. I would have to remember to thank Wormtail for sparing my hearing...figuratively. His new hand should be able to cover most of it. After all, Lord Voldemort was gracious to those who served him, was he not?

As he picked up my body I wrapped my arms around his neck as I looked into his revolted face, feeling momentary glee at his disgust. He walked me over to the cauldron, and for a moment, I saw what I looked like for the first and last time, reflected in the surface of the water. My skin looked scaly, my eyes were covered in a thick film like substance. I had the size of a small hairless scaly half serpent child, mutilated beyond repair.

And I was furious. Furiously happy. Happy that I was scaring the boy. Happy that he would die for what he had done to me. Overjoyed that I was getting a new body. Gleeful that I would no longer rely on Wormtail for services of which I was perfectly capable. And than he gently lowered my body into the boiling potion.

I was thankful Nagini had raised my core body temperature. It merely felt like a warm bath. If she hadn't, I might've come to my new body in boils, which would have been very uncomfortable indeed. I started sucking in lungfuls of the potion, which would be needed to rebuild my frail organs and lungs. Above me, I could hear Wormtail speaking, his voice shaking.

"Bone of the father, unknowingly given, you will renew your son!"

I heard a crack above the surface of what I was sure was my _real_ father's bone being lifted from his grave. I was not surprised to hear that Dumbledore was a liar when he said my father was a muggle. It was laughable to me now, given the height of his blood status, muggles were most likely no more than myth to him. I'd obviously inherited Riddle's power. Riddle, the direct descending son of the Peverel family. Ingenious.

The surface above me hissed as the bone was added and I watched with rapt attention as it turned the most poisonous shade of blue. Which I would have found delightful, were I not bathed in it myself. It was irking to be sure _I_ thought. But than again, I was the only one who valued my life.

Interrupted from my musings, my attention was drawn to the lights danced on the surface of the water above me. It was like watching the most glorious of shows. The scenery was hypnotizing and went unbroken broken by the sound of Wormtail's cowardly pathetic whimpering as he prepared for the next step of the ritual.

"Flesh - of the servant - w-willingly given - you will - revive - your master."

His throat ripping screech sounded as his hideously disfigured hand plopped into the cauldron before me. But before I could show further disgust, it disintegrated. The potion than turned a burning red, like flame. The light emitting from it above was so much so that I had to blink for a moment before the itch began, burning and smelling of rat as it went. I flinched as the bones in my body grew slowly and the skin stretched along with it, preparing to remove itself as a snake shedding its scales. I steeled myself as my organs grew and the itching escalated to a new level. But I laid, frozen. I would not allow myself the opportunity to move or show pain. And most certainly not in front of a servant. After all, this was simply the healing process creating skin. I grit my teeth and bared it, smiling as I heard the last line of the spell.

"B-blood of the enemy . . . forcibly taken .. . you will. . . resurrect your foe."

I looked on as he stood above me tipping the vial in which was stored the blood that was so necessary to the completion of the ritual, this potion. The blood that I had schemed so hard to get. I flinched for a moment as the first drop fell, preparing myself for the pain. The potion turned an instant blinding white. But for all it did for me, I couldn't have cared if it blinded me...for the moment anyway.

The pain was unbearable. It took all my training not to scream as the boys blood mixed with what little was left of my own. His blood and mine mixed in what proved to be a heady cocktail that would make a masochist faint. This was every sadists wet dream. I was neither. I lay there as his magic and mine intermingled and fought for dominance. But as there was too little of his blood to fight against mine, I felt it succumb and the mind numbing pleasure was enough to turn the most brilliant theist into believing there was a god.

The ecstasy was cut short however when flesh ripped off my bones. Potion seeped into my veins whilst new skin covered my exposed organs in layers upon layers. I lay there for a moment in shock as all drifted to an inky velvety black. It was almost over. I opened my eyes in relief when I found myself standing behind the cauldron, momentarily blind.

_"Massster."_

For the first time in fourteen years, I looked upon my familiar with my own eyes. I would forever appreciate her value, I decided. She was precious, however, I had other endeavors on which to dwell, like the current state of my nakedness. Surely I couldn't summon my death eaters in the nude. The thought was laughable.

"Robe me."

I took pleasure in the disgust of Wormtail, who was still pathetically sobbing and moaning, still cradling his mutilated arm as picked up the black robes from the ground. With one hand, he robed them over my body to hide my current state of undress.

As the mist emitting from the cauldron slowly evaporated, the boy became clearer in my line of sight. He was pale, fearful, and analyzing as he stared at me, as if I was the embodiment of a ghost from a not so distant nightmare.

It was most certainly good to be back.


	2. Chapter Two: The Deatheaters

**CHAPTER TWO - THE DEATHEATERS**

**A/N Ya know, at first I didn't think I was going to add Voldemort's monologue or Harry's escaping. But I figure if I'm going to do this, I should do it completely. By the way guys, the reason I'm late in updating is because I just found out I'm pregnant!**

**DISCLAIMER: I own not the characters I just own the thread**  
**And we all play in the imaginary sandbox I built-in my head**  
**so thank you J.K. Rowling for the chance to play**  
**the harry potter game in the imaginary sandbox today.**

*** H/V * H/V * H/V * H/V * H/V * H/V * H/V * H/V * H/V * H/V * H/V ***

And he was rising from the cauldron, eyes that spelled death as he looked me in the eye and made me accept I was going to die. Only, I couldn't accept that. I couldn't take the easy way out. I didn't survive the killing curse for nothing. I didn't defeat him time and time again for nothing. I wanted to live. So I searched for an opportunity. I didn't like to think of myself as one, but I was a brave opportunist. And so while Voldemort called his death eaters to him and delayed the inevitable, I searched for a way out.

I began feeling the ropes with my hands as he began chastising those who came to him. You think he would be a little nicer to those he considered his "true family". But than again, he didn't have any family. Only servants. I felt around for a slight chink in the rope or for anything that I could possibly use to get it open. But it was no use. My hands were bound tight and the rope was perfectly charmed.

I watched as deatheaters appeared out of thin air. It was like watching smoke, strangely enough and I couldn't figure what it was exactly that made them appear. Was it maybe something from the dark mark? I watched even more closely as they appeared between graves, behind the dead yew tree, hooded cloaked and masked. One by one, they moved forward slowly, in nothing less than fear. Behind their masks, eyes were wide as they watched their master standing still, waiting for them patiently. And they fell to their knees and the murmurings of "master" could be heard as they each rushed to kiss his feet. It was enough to turn my stomach.

I couldn't even imagine Dumbledore having us do something like that.

They backed up on their hands and knees and formed a circle with open gaps, as though waiting for others to come. I didn't know they'd been alphabetized.

"Welcome, Death Eaters, " said Voldemort quietly. "Thirteen years... Thirteen years since last we met. Yet you answer my call as though it were yesterday, we are still united under the Dark Mark, then! Or are we?" He put back his terrible face and sniffed, his slit-like nostrils widening. "I smell guilt, " he said. "There is a stench of guilt upon the air."

I remembered what people like him were called in my school before I came to Hogwarts. But even Lucius Malfoy would probably be hexed for calling Voldemort a drama queen.

"I see you all, whole and healthy, with your powers intact-such prompt appearances! and I ask myself... Why did this band of wizards never come to the aid of their master, to whom they sworeeternal loyalty?"

_Because they fear you._

"And I answer myself, " whispered Voldemort, "they must have believed me broken, they thought I was gone. They slipped back among my enemies, and they pleaded innocence, and ignorance, and bewitchment... "And then I ask myself, but how could they have believed I would not rise again? They, who knew the steps I took, long ago, to guard myself against mortal death? They, who had seen proofs of the immensity of my power in the times when I was mightier than any wizard living? And I answer myself, perhaps they believed a still greater power could exist, one that could vanquish even Lord Voldemort... Perhaps they now pay allegiance to another... Perhaps that champion of commoners, of Mudbloods and Muggles, Albus Dumbledore?"

_As if they ever would. He's just looking for an excuse to curse them._

"It is a disappointment to me ... I confess myself disappointed... "

One of the deatheaters flub himself at Voldemort's feet, trembling from head to toe. He just didn't want to be killed. "Master!" he shrieked, "Master, forgive me! Forgive us all!"

_What kind of person makes you beg for forgiveness?_

Voldemort began to laugh as he raised his wand. "Crucio!"

_That person._

The Death Eater on the ground writhed and shrieked; and though the sound was sure to carry, there wasn't anyone for miles around. And even if someone did report it to the police and they came out to investigate, they would just be killed. I really would have to face a whole healthy living breathing Voldemort by myself. But I wasn't about to let him kill me, if I could help it.

"Get up, Avery, " said Voldemort softly, dangerously. "Stand up. You ask for forgiveness? I do not forgive. I do not forget. Thirteen long years ... I want thirteen years' repayment before I forgive you. Wormtail here has paid some of his debt already, have you not, Wormtail?" He looked down at Wormtail, who continued to sob.

He swooped around dramatically to stand behind Wormtail. It was nothing short of a joke really. And that was when I realized, he was playing with them.

"You returned to me, not out of loyalty, but out of fear of your old friends. You deserve this pain, Wormtail. You know that, don't you?"

"Yes, Master, " moaned Wormtail, "please. Master... Please ... "

"Yet you helped return me to my body. Worthless and traitorous as you are, you helped me ... And Lord Voldemort rewards his helpers... "

It's so weird when he refers to himself in third person. But I wouldn't be surprised if he were schizophrenic.

Voldemort raised his wand again and whirled it through the air, leaving a streak of what looked like molten silver in it's wake. Momentarily shapeless, it writhed and then formed itself into a gleaming replica of a human hand, bright as moonlight, which soared downward and fixed itself upon Wormtails bleeding wrist. I don't know how that wasn't painful but Wormtail's sobbing stopped abruptly.

His breathing harsh and ragged, he raised his head and stared in disbelief at the silver hand, now attached seamlessly to what _was_ his stump of an arm, as though he were wearing a dazzling glove. He flexed the shining fingers, then, trembling, picked up a small twig on the ground and crushed it into powder. "My Lord, " he whispered. "Master ... It is beautiful... Thank you... Thank you... "

He scrambled forward on his knees and kissed the hem of Voldemort's robes. I don't know why Voldemort let him. It was disgusting. "May your loyalty never waver again, Wormtail, " said Voldemort.

"No, my Lord... Never, my Lord... "Wormtail stood up and took his place in the circle, staring at his powerful new hand, his face still shining with tears. He should never have been sorted into Gryffindor. He acted too much like a Hufflepuff, not that there was anything wrong with that sort.

Voldemort now approached the man on Wormtail's right.

"Lucius, my slippery friend, " he whispered, halting before him. "I am told that you have not renounced the old ways, though to the world you present a respectable face. You are still ready to take the lead in a spot of Muggle-torture, I believe? Yet you never tried to find me, Lucius... Your exploits at the Quidditch World Cup were fun, I daresay... But might not your energies have been better directed toward finding and aiding your master?"

"My Lord, I was constantly on the alert, " came Lucius Malfoy's voice swiftly from beneath the hood. "Had there been any sign from you, any whisper of your whereabouts, I would have been at your side immediately, nothing could have prevented me-"

"And yet you ran from my Mark, when a faithful Death Eater sent it into the sky last summer?" said Voldemort lazily, and Mr. Malfoy stopped talking abruptly. "Yes, I know all about that, Lucius... You have disappointed me... I expect more faithful service in the future. "

I smirked. _Burned._

"Of course, my Lord, of course... You are merciful, thank you... "

_He's not merciful, he's a maniac!_

Voldemort moved on, and stopped, staring at the space-large enough for two people-that separated Malfoy and the next man. i didn't know who.

"The Lestranges should stand here, " said Voldemort quietly. "But they are entombed in Azkaban. They were faithful. They went to Azkaban rather than renounce me...When Azkaban is broken open, the Lestranges will be honored beyond their dreams. The dementors will join us ...They are our natural allies...We will recall the banished giants...I shall have all my devoted servants returned to me, and an army of creatures whom all fear..." I shivered at just what those might be.

He walked on. Some of the Death Eaters he passed in silence, lucky for them, because it probably meant that he didn't know anything. But he paused before others and spoke to them. "Macnair...Destroying dangerous beasts for the Ministry of Magic now, Wormtail tells me? You shall have better victims than that soon, Macnair. Lord Voldemort will provide..."

"Thank you, Master...Thank you," murmured Macnair, the man who had and had not killed buckbeak. He must have been a "worthy" follower of Voldemort. He's just as insane as he is.

"And here" -Voldemort moved on to the two largest hooded figures, his voice laced with unveiled digust- "we have Crabbe... You will do better this time, will you not, Crabbe? And you, Goyle?"

Not that they could do much better, judging by their sons. They bowed clumsily, muttering dully and stupidly. "Yes, Master..." "We will, Master..."

"The same goes for you, Nott, " said Voldemort quietly as he walked past a stooped figure in Mr. Goyles shadow.

"My Lord, I prostrate myself before you, I am your most faithful-"

"That will do, " said Voldemort. If one knew what to look for, you could almost see embarrassment in his eyes. He didn't like public proclamations of love, yet he demanded them as a group? No, he didn't demand love. He demanded worship...interesting.

He had reached the largest gap of all, and he stood surveying the void with his blank, red eyes, as spine chilling as a white angel of death. For a long moment he said nothing. He stood as though he could see people standing there.

"And here we have six missing Death Eaters... Three dead in my service. One, too cowardly to return... He will pay. One, who I believe has left me forever ... He will be killed, of course... And one, who remains my most faithful servant, and who has already reentered my service."

The Death Eaters stirred, and Harry saw their eyes dart sideways at one another through their masks, wondering like pets who would receive their masters worship.

"He is at Hogwarts, that faithful servant, and it was through his efforts that our young friend arrived here tonight...yes, " said Voldemort, a grin curling his lipless mouth as the eyes of the circle flashed in Harry's direction. "Harry Potter has kindly joined us for my rebirthing party. One might go so far as to call him my guest of honor."

There was a deep unbroken silence, as though the same thought was on all their minds but they were afraid to ask it. They were smart. Lucius Malfoy could be heard from beside wormtail as he summoned up the courage to ask what was on everyone's mind.

"Master, we crave to know ... We beg you to tell us ... How you have achieved this... This miracle... How you managed to return to us... "

"Ah, what a story it is, Lucius, " said Voldemort. "And it begins-and ends-with my young friend here." I looked him straight in the eye as he walked lazily over to stand next to me, so that the eyes of the whole circle were upon the two of them. I was a bit uncomfortable with that but no where nearly as much as I was with Voldemort standing next to me. The snake circled around the stone.

"You know, of course, that they have called this boy my downfall?" He fixed his horrifying red eyes upon me as my scar set itself on fire. I wanted to scream in agony but my throat was being held closed.

"You all know that on the night I lost my powers and my body, I tried to kill him. His mother died in the attempt to save him-and unwittingly provided him with a protection I admit I had not foreseen... I could not touch the boy." Voldemort raised one of his long, spidery, deathly white fingers and was so close to touching Harry's skin, one could take it as a caress.

"His mother left upon him the traces other sacrifice... This is old magic, I should have remembered it, I was foolish to overlook it... But no matter. I can touch him now."

Harry felt the cold tip of the long white finger touch him, and thought his head would burst with the pain. Voldemort laughed softly in his ear, then took the finger away and continued addressing the Death Eaters.

"I miscalculated, my friends, I admit it. My curse was deflected by the woman's foolish sacrifice, and it rebounded upon myself. Aaah... Pain beyond pain, my friends; nothing could have prepared me for it. I was ripped from my body, I was less than spirit, less than the meanest ghost... But still, I was alive. What I was, even I do not know... I, who have gone further than anybody along the path that leads to immortality. You know my goal-to conquer death. And now, I was tested, and it appeared that one or more of my experiments had worked ... For I had not been killed, though the curse should have done it. Nevertheless, I was as powerless as the weakest creature alive, and without the means to help myself... For I had no body, and every spell that might have helped me required the use of a wand...I remember only forcing myself, sleeplessly, endlessly, second by second, to exist... I settled in afaraway place, in a forest, and I waited... Surely, one of my faithful Death Eaters would try and find me... One of them would come and perform the magic I could not, to restore me to a body..., but I waited in vain..."

The shiver ran once more around the circle of listening Death Eaters and the already cold temperature dropped considerably. Voldemort let the silence spiral horribly before continuing.

"Only one power remained to me. I could possess the bodies of others. But I dared not go where other humans were plentiful, for I knew that the Aurors were still abroad and searching for me. I sometimes inhabited animals-snakes, of course, being my preference-but I was little better offinside them than as pure spirit, for their bodies were ill adapted to perform magic... And my possessionof them shortened their lives; none of them lasted long...Then... Four years ago... The means for my return seemed assured. A wizard-young, foolish, and gullible-wandered across my path in the forest I had made my home. Oh, he seemed the very chance I had been dreaming of... For he was a teacher at Dumbledore's school... He was easy to bend to my will... He brought me back to this country, and after a while, I took possession of his body, to supervise himclosely as he carried out my orders. But my plan failed. I did not manage to steal the Sorcerer's Stone. I was not to be assured immortal life. I was thwarted... Thwarted, once again, by Harry Potter..."

Silence once more; nothing was stirring, not even the leaves on the yew tree. The Death Eaters were quite motionless, the glittering eyes in their masks fixed upon Voldemort, and upon Harry. They were obviously anxious to hear more of the story. I had to admit it, I was curious too, since I couldn't get out and I had nothing better to do than be tied up.

"The servant died when I left his body, and I was left as weak as ever I had been, " Voldemort continued. "I returned to my hiding place far away, and I will not pretend to you that I didn't then fear that I might never regain my powers... Yes, that was perhaps my darkest hour... I could not hope that I would be sent another wizard to possess... And I had given up hope, now, that any of my Death Eaters cared what had become of me..."

One or two of the masked wizards in the circle moved uncomfortably, but Voldemort took no notice. It was just his twisted way of getting people to admit their guilt. And those who did would be punished, if Voldemort's cold snakelike face was anything to go by.

"And then, not even a year ago, when I had almost abandoned hope, it happened at last... A servant returned to me. Wormtail here, who had faked his own death to escape justice, was driven out of hiding by those he had once counted friends, and decided to return to his master. He sought me in the country where it had long been rumored I was hiding... Helped, of course, by the rats he met along the way. Wormtail has a curious affinity with rats, do you not, Wormtail? His filthy little friends told him therewas a place, deep in an Albanian forest, that they avoided, where small animals like themselves had met their deaths by a dark shadow that possessed them...But his journey back to me was not smooth, was it, Wormtail? For, hungry one night, on the edge ofthe very forest where he had hoped to find me, he foolishly stopped at an inn for some food... And who should he meet there, but one Bertha Jorkins, a witch from the Ministry of Magic. Now see the way that fate favors Lord Voldemort. This might have been the end of Wormtail, and of my last hope for regeneration. But Wormtail-displaying a presence of mind I would never have expected from him-convinced Bertha Jorkins to accompany him on a night time stroll. He overpowered her ... He brought her to me. And Bertha Jorkins, who might have ruined all, proved instead to be a giftbeyond my wildest dreams ... For-with a little persuasion-she became a veritable mine of information. She told me that the Triwizard Tournament would be played at Hogwarts this year. She told me that she knew of a faithful Death Eater who would be only too willing to help me, if I could only contact him. She told me many things... But the means I used to break the Memory Charm upon her were powerful, and when I had extracted all useful information from her, her mind and body were both damaged beyond repair. She had now served her purpose. I could not possess her. I disposed of her."

Voldemort smiled his terrible smile, his red eyes blank and pitiless. And I wanted to kill him with everything within me. If he freed me or someone else did, I would take revenge for Bertha Jorkins. She didn't deserve to die! I seethed in my bonds as he continued.

"Wormtail's body, of course, was ill adapted for possession, as all assumed him dead, and would attract far too much attention if noticed. However, he was the able-bodied servant I needed, and, poor wizard though he is, Wormtail was able to follow the instructions I gave him, which would return me to a rudimentary, weak body of my own, a body I would be able to inhabit while awaiting the essential ingredients for true rebirth ... A spell or two of my own invention ... A little help from my dear Nagini," Voldemorts red eyes fell upon the continually circling snake, "a potion concocted from unicorn blood, and the snake venom Nagini provided ... I was soon returned to an almost human form, and strong enough to travel. There was no hope of stealing the Sorcerer's Stone anymore, for I knew that Dumbledore would have seen to it that it was destroyed. But I was willing to embrace mortal life again, before chasing immortality. I set my sights lower ... I would settle for my old body back again, and my old strength. I knew that to achieve this-it is an old piece of Dark Magic, the potion that revived me tonight-I would need three powerful ingredients. Well, one of them was already at hand, was it not, Wormtail? Flesh given by a servant...My father's bone, naturally, meant that we would have to come here, where he was buried. But the blood of a foe...Wormtail would have had me use any wizard, would you not, Wormtail? Any wizard who had hated me ... As so many of them still do. But I knew the one I must use, if I was to rise again, more powerful than I had been when I had fallen. I wanted Harry Potters blood. I wanted the blood of the one who had stripped me of power thirteen years ago... For the lingering protection his mother once gave him would then reside in my veins too...But how to get at Harry Potter? For he has been better protected than I think even he knows, protected in ways devised by Dumbledore long ago, when it fell to him to arrange the boy's future. Dumbledore invoked an ancient magic, to ensure the boy's protection as long as he is in his relations'care. Not even I can touch him there...Then, of course, there was the Quidditch World Cup... I thought his protection might be weaker there, away from his relations and Dumbledore, but I was not yet strong enough to attempt kidnap in the midst of a horde of Ministry wizards. And then, the boy would return to Hogwarts, where he is under the crooked nose of that Muggle-loving fool from morning until night. So how could I take him? Why ... By using Bertha Jorkins's information, of course. Use my one faithful Death Eater, stationed at Hogwarts, to ensure that the boy's name was entered into the Goblet of Fire. Use my Death Eater to ensure that the boy won the tournament-that he touched the Triwizard Cup first-the cup which my Death Eater had turned into a Portkey, which would bring him here, beyond the reach of Dumbledore's help and protection, and into my waiting arms. And here he is ... The boy you all believed had been my downfall... "

Voldemort moved slowly forward and turned to face the boy. Harry tensed up, ready to combat the pain of this curse. The dark lord raised his wand. "Crucio!"

It was pain beyond anything Harry had ever experienced; his very bones were on fire; the marrow was made of cyanide; his head was surely splitting along his scar and readying itself to release his soul; his eyes were rolling madly in his head; he wanted it to end ... To blackout... To die ...but he would not scream. Uncle Vernon had always taught him not to scream when he was being beaten. If he did, he would be locked in his cupboard. If he did, his aunt would beat him with the burning frying pan. He waited for the moment when the curse would end, and it seemed to go on forever. But unexpectedly, it was gone. His body hung limply in the ropes binding him to the headstone of Voldemort's father as he couldn't find the strength to do anything but at the moment. He looked up into those bright red eyes through a kind of mist, as though it were clouding his soul. His mind. The night was ringing with the sound of the Death Eaters' silence. Strange, he'd expected laughter. But that wasn't enough to distract him from Voldemort himself. The sheer overpower presence that could take his life in an instant demanded every shred of his attention, which he willingly gave.

He bent down to speak in my ear for just a brief moment and I could barely hold on to the words.

"You are the first person never to scream. Congratulations."

It was a strange compliment from a man who hated him and wanted him dead. But, Voldemort craved, acknowledged, and worshipped power. And anyone who had it, he gave credit to. Interesting that of all the things he wasn't, one thing that he was, was fair.

Than he stood.

"Whether he screams at the curse is no consequence. Though it shows a resilience to pain, it is laughable to think for a moment that this boy is my equal simply because he inherets masochistic tendencies."

The death eaters made sure to laugh raucously but they were deeply curious about the first person never to scream under Lord Voldemort's cruciates. Harry's blood was chilled by Voldemort's next words.

"I want there to be no mistake in anybody's mind. Harry Potter escaped me by a lucky chance. And I am now going to prove my power by killing him, here and now, in front of you all, when there is no Dumbledore to help him, and no mother to die for him. I will give him his chance. He will be allowed to fight, and you will be left in no doubt which of us is the stronger. Just a little longer, Nagini, " he whispered, and the snake glided away through the grass to where the Death Eaters stoodwatching. "Now untie him, Wormtail, and give him back his wand."

I was pulled roughly from my bonds and my ankle throbbed as my holly wand fit back into my palm and I stood up to face my death.


	3. Chapter Three: The Chance of a Lifetime

**CHAPTER THREE - THE CHANCE OF A LIFETIME**

**A/N Ok I would have had this updated last night but I had a scare with my baby. In the first four days of my pregnancy I kept everything down. Than on the fifth day I threw it all back up and didn't put anything into my stomach but tea. So for two days, me and the baby have lived on a diet of nothing but black and orange pekoe tea. The nausea gets so bad that at first moving makes me sick. Than after I reach the critical stage, _everything_ makes me sick. Looking at food, even _smelling_ food made me begin to vomit and when I would force myself to eat, I would only get a bite down before having to throw up _again. _But last night when my womb started stinging and cramping (what I now know is hunger pains) I thought something was wrong with the baby. Turns out, her heart is 160 beats per minutes, I'm 6 weeks and 1 day along, and I have a cyst on my right ovary bringing nutrients to the baby that should disappear after the pregnancy. So nothing is wrong with her. I however was suffering from severe dehydration and severe lack of nutrients to my system. So they pumped me full of IV fluid and gave me nausea medicine. This medicine helps with the motion sickness and the constant nausea. But the good news is that I'm ok now and I'll have the anti-nausia pills that the doctor prescribed by this saturday!  
**

**Anyways, I thought those who were concerned might want to know. Now as far as the story goes...**

**This chapter will be from Voldemort's POV because since he's the one talking so much, I figure this is more about him than Harry. After all, he deserves the attention at this moment. It's _his_ resurrection after all. So as they say..._on with the show!_**

**DISCLAIMER: I own not the characters I just own the thread**  
**And we all play in the imaginary sandbox I built-in my head**  
**so thank you J.K. Rowling for the chance to play**  
**the harry potter game in the imaginary sandbox today.**

*** H/V * H/V * H/V * H/V * H/V * H/V * H/V * H/V * H/V * H/V * H/V ***

I watched on as Wormtail sliced the bonds off the boy, who scrambled to his feet and ripped the gag out of his own mouth. It would be ill advised to run at this point, but the boy didn't need to be told twice. After all, that injured ankle would do him no good in his endeavors. And the death eaters, who were now closing ranks, would only stop him and throw him before me. He decided to stand strong and face his death like a brave foolish Gryffindor with no planning ahead to try to win. And though I hated and despised stupidity, I did value bravery. It was a trait so rarely found in the Slytherin house.

Wormtail, ever the servant, bid as I said and walked out of the circle to the place where the other boy's body lay and returned with Harry's wand, which he thrust roughly into his hand without looking at him. Was that guilt in his eyes? Guilt for the boy he had helped rat out? Sell out? Now this was an interesting turn of events. Wormtail resumed his place in the circle of watching Death Eaters and now was not the time to berate him. After all, it certainly wouldn't matter after the boy had died.

I looked over the slightly damaged by strong Gryffindor, who was now standing on his broken ankle in a defensive pose, ready to combat me. Ready for me to make the first move. He would most likely have to re-break his ankle in order for it to heal properly but right now, he was in survival mode. I obviously had to accredit the boys physical endurance and strength. He would fight to the death if he couldn't avoid it.

I sank into his mind, knowing I wouldn't find the prophecy even before I slithered in the interior, unless Dumbledore really had changed the game so much. But I doubted it. And I proved myself correct. I didn't find the prophecy. What I did find was...so much more.

In the brief second of entering his mind, I was overcome with a feeling of bliss...sheer euphoria. I noticed immediately how I glissade in with ease, unlike before my transformation. I noticed how I didn't have to force myself in and how I could sink in easily between the layers of his brain like slightly melted butter. The feeling was almost...beautiful, sensual, in a magic like way.

I could immediately see how unprepared he was. The prophecy was nowhere in his brain to be found and he didn't seem to know how to fight beyond using his sheer luck, brute strength, and what little magic he appeared to have access to. But beneath that...

The boy was a roaring inferno or rage and beauty. His very body sung of uncontrolled fire and the brittle passion in anger that could lead to a strength that could almost, if not quite, match my own.

And oh how the boys body sung of magic, though how his body had retained it's boyishness in his years was beyond me. Magic of every type and yet nothing specific poured out from him like an erupting volcano. I lightly touched all areas of his mind, fascinated. I had never before experienced a mind that had melded to my own in such a..._compatible_ way. That was surely something to save away for future study. The boy was an enigma in more than one way.

He was intelligent. He had the capacity to outshine Rowena Ravenclaw in his studies, yet he was dependent on others because he doubted his true potential. He was strong. He could beat anyone in any kind of physical fight and win, yet he was soft as a feather and breakable as glass. But even beyond being broken, he would still fight to the death. He did not open his heart easily to anyone, no matter who he pretended to let in and underneath it all was a personality Salazar Slytherin himself would be proud of. The boy used what intelligence he had access to, to be cunning. And where he wasn't traditional per se, he more than made up for it in being resourceful. His ability in the areas of leadership were bar none, and his sense of determination and self-preservation surpassed that of any Slytherins, and was slightly reminiscent of...abuse. This was the type of person who could hold his own ground and either die fighting or win.

And if he believed in something, he believed it to his core until his core was betrayed.

Dumbledore had formed the most fragile weapon in the world to die for him. And he was walking a very tight line between what the boy could handle and what he could not. But why? Even if the prophecy turned out to be true, why not make the boy invincible? Why repeatedly send him to the slaughter? Unless his wand meant more than his core being compatible with mine...

The boys wand core, as I had found out, twined my own. They were not made to kill, but to...harmonize, as my studies showed. The thought was interesting, given how fragile the boy was. But could that be because of his upbringing? But it also depended on the cores of the two wizards in question whether the wands would harmonize. It also depended on one other crucial element inside the priori incantatem. So either we would enter the connection or the wands in both our hands would break apart on contact. But what priori incantatem would mean...and if the level of power was high enough...

Yes, the boy was unprepared. But there was no going back now. The boy would have to be dueled, not that I intended on killing him now. Not when I didn't know...

"You have been taught how to duel, I assume, Harry Potter?"

I briefly searched his mind for pieces of information and what little training he'd had in the subject was mediocre. Anyone with half a brain could see that Lockhart was a fraud. But that was of no consequence.

He was in a rather gleeful mood and was ready to find out what he could about the boy.

The boy briefly thought about disarming me for a moment, but dismissed the notion as we were surrounded by death eaters. The foolish boy didn't realize that I had no use for my wand. He started gleaning whatever curses he had heard in the hallways, hexes he had heard on the trains, any and all training he received from Hogwarts, which was unsurprisingly more rudimentary than in my time and he straightened his back, showing he was ready.

"First we bow to each other. Harry, " said Voldemort, bending a little, but keeping his snakelike face upturned to Harry. It was never like a Slytherin to take his eyes off the enemy. "Come, the niceties must be observed... Dumbledore would like you to show manners... Bow to death, Harry... "

The Death Eaters were laughing again. Voldemorts lipless mouth was smiling. But still Harry did not bow. He was resilient to the cruciates and resilient to the imperious curse. And as far as could be told, he was resilient the the killing curse as well. He knew of only one thing that could give someone that kind of power over death. And it certainly wasn't a mothers love. But the boy didn't have the power to make one, nor the interest, given he wanted nothing to do with dark magic.

The boy stood his ground and still, he did not give in.

"I said bow." He used the power from his wand like a hand, bending down the boys back. But the boys aura immediately rebounded the spell.

"Very good, Harry. You have learned a thing or two about resilience. Now, you will face me, like a man...Straight-backed and proud, the way your father died...and now-we duel.

Before the boy could move, I'd struck with the cruciates curse. One thing that little club should have taught him was that Slytherins didn't fight fair. I didn't laugh as I looked into the mind before me. Oh yes, his pain was all consuming. Like acid being slowly dropped over every inch of skin simultaneously. He felt like he was having an out of body experience, like he'd been dragged straight to hell. And he was about to let himself go when I pulled back. If the boy-no. If the _man_ was mine, killing him would be the last thing on my agenda.

The moment the curse ended, Harry was on his feet again, though he was shaking as uncontrollably as Wormtail had when he'd cut off his hand. The boy blindly tried to make his way through the wall of death eaters, who pushed him back towards Voldemort. But the boys mind had not yet broken. Even after experience a third of his power. Yes, the boy had extreme resiliency.

"A little break, a little pause. That hurt, didn't it Harry? You don't want me to do that again, do you?"

The man said nothing, accepting his death. But he wasn't going to play along. He wasn't going to obey Voldemort... He wasn't going to beg...

"I asked you whether you want me to do that again, " said Voldemort softly. "Answer me! Imperiol"

After the cruciates curse, he was in bliss. His mind had been wiped of all thought and he was suddenly floating and dreaming as though he was gently riding a broomstick through the open sky.

Just answer no...

Say no...

Just answer no...

But the boys anger kicked in and he drew up his power and his will.

**I will not.** **I won't answer.**

Just answer no...

**I won't do it, I won't say it.**

Just answer no...

"I WON'T!" The words were shrieked from Harry's mouth and they reverberated across the graveyard bouncing off the stones around them. He again began feeling the affects of the cruciates.

"You won't? You won't say no? Harry, obedience is a virtue I need to teach you before you die... Perhaps another little dose of pain?"

As I raised my wand, before I knew it the boy was gone. I hadn't seen where he gone for a moment. His movement was quick, fluid like a striking snake. I briefly sniffed the air and tasted him hiding behind the gravestone of my father. He was _still_ letting the dead protect him. Ironic.

"We are not playing hide-and-seek, Harry. You cannot hide from me. Does this mean you are tired of our duel? Does this mean that you would prefer me to finish it now, Harry? Come out, Harry. Come out and play, then. It will be quick. It might even be painless. I would not know...I have never died..."

I draw nearer the gravestone slowly, ready for the him to throw his curse. He would surely try to disarm me and if he did so, the spell would be activated. I had made sure of that. If he was what I thought he was, I would not harm a hair on his head. And that was the game Dumbledore was playing. The hopes that I didn't know. The hopes that I would kill him to further weaken my own self. Not likely.

I felt the boys magic preparing to strike, like a lion with the fangs of a snake. "Expelliarmus!"

"Avada Kedavra!"

A jet of green light issued from my wand just as a jet of red light blasted from Harry's - they met in midair - and suddenly Harry's wand was vibrating as though an electric charge were surging through it; his hand seized up around it; he couldn't have released it if he'd wanted to-and a narrow beam of light connected the two wands, neither red nor green, but bright, deep gold. Priori incantatem. Finally. I closed my fingers tighter around my vibrating wand and followed the core beam, not the spell, into Harry's wand core and his actual magical core, confirming what I'd first thought. He was mine.

I backed out slowly and moved us away from the graves onto a clear patch. Harry's gaze was astonished as they lifted from the ground. He and myself were both being raised into the air, our wands still connected by that thread of shimmering golden light. We glided away from the tombstone of my father and then came to rest on a patch of ground that was clear and free of graves...

Below us the shouts of my servants could be heard, asking for instructions, reforming the circle, Nagini slithering at our heels, unsure of what to do. I tried to keep my attention on this golden thread as Priori incantatem was so rarely heard of that not much could be said about it. But when they started drawing their wands, I knew it was getting dangerous. I was briefly surprised as the golden thread splintered yet our wands remained connected. A thousand beams arched high over our heads, crisscrossing around us, until we were enclosed in a golden magical shaped dome like web, their cries like group of tiny ants.

"Do nothing!"

This spell could not break. There had to be more.

"Do nothing unless I command you!" Voldemort shouted to the Death Eaters.

The spell vibrated with the song of the Snake and the Phoenix. But they were not fighting against each other. They were intertwined in the most sensual sex magic imaginable.

_Don't break the connection..._

I was stunned by the voices of the dead. Speaking to myself and Harry both. I knew they were speaking to him, just not what they were saying.

The moment I'd accepted, it became much harder to do. Beads of light slid along the golden beam to his wand and continuously moved toward him as his wand shuddered and my wand burned my always too sensitive hands. But that just came with the territory of having a higher level of magic. However, it helped nothing in this situation.

He forced the beads back towards myself as my wand started vibrating harder than before. I knew not what these beads of light would do. But Priori Incantatem was acting more and more like a revealing/binding spell. When the light connected with my wand, the sibilant silky moving song was interrupted by screams of pain and feelings of anger. And out of the tip something blossomed. A great grayish mass of something that looked as though it were made of dense solid smoke. The torso of Cedric Diggery was revealed. But still I did not let go. More and more ghostly shadows and screams of pain filled my head one after the other. Each voice of the dead teasing me to my breaking point but I would not let go.

_You know who is coming next..._

_Your worst fears are coming true..._

_You will pay for what you have done..._

A man with untidy black hair emereged from the tip of his wand and looked at him for a moment, sizing him up before he turned to Harry. "Your mother is coming." These words I could hear. "She wants to see you ... It will be all right... Hold on... "

_She wants to see both of you._

And she came... First her head, then her body... A young woman with long hair, the smoky, shadowy form of Lily Potter blossomed from the end of my wand, than fell to the ground, and straightened like her husband.

she turned and faced me for just a moment, sizing me up before speaking. "You took my life and that of my husband. You nearly killed my child. I will admit that I knew this would happen before it did. I also know that with the boy being your horcrux, you will not harm him. There are other dangers at play here than that of the fight between you both. And what would be more beneficial than anything is for you both to put this aside. Remember that not all prophecies are true. And think of this, would you honestly trust something spewed from the mouth of Albus Dumbledore? Why should you trust in one of his servants through the mouth of someone else who heard it firsthand? You know nothing, so assume nothing. You have our blessing."

She walked over to Harry and I could see where he gleaned his intelligence. From what I'd learned of Lilly Potter, she had the gift of foresight. More gifted that Cassandra Trelwany. But Dumbledore never knew, therefore, Dumbledore couldn't control it. That was why they went into hiding. They had been coaxed into the order of the phoenix just as wormtail had spoken, just as I had refused to believe. They were waiting for the end of the war and they wanted nothing to do with either side.

_"My wife is going to give you an out. There are more dangers than what you see. There are things about Albus Dumbledore that no one knows. Be wary of him. Something evil lurks inside his soul. You will be blinded for a moment, in which Harry will escape and you will let him. After all, you wouldn't want to risk harming your horcrux. If you do this, Harry will come to you in time. Be patient and wait."_

I was angered and confused by the words of the dead. Confused as to why Harry would come to me at all. Did this mean he was going to wake up? But the boy so dimly believed in the lies placed into his head...Unless the tight line that Albus Dumbledore walked tipped just a little. It might tip the odds in his favor, despite his...unordinary habits.

_"When the connection is broken, we will linger for only moments. But we will give you time. You must get to the Portkey, it will return you to Hogwarts. Do you understand, Harry?"_

"Yes, " Harry gasped, fighting now to keep a hold on his wand, which was slipping and sliding beneathhis fingers.

_"Harry... "_ whispered the figure of Cedric, _"take my body back, will you? Take my body back to my parents." _

Cedric looked toward me for just a moment. _"I know of things now I did not know when I was alive. Take care of Harry Potter in the days to come. He will need it more than you know."_

"I will." But I couldn't be sure which of us aquiesed.

_"Do it now, "_ whispered his father's voice, _"be ready to run... Do it now... "_

"NOW!" He gave his wand a mighty wrench and the golden thread between them was broken. But that did not mean that Priori Incantatem could not still be invoked with anothers wand. It was, after all, not the cores of the wands that mattered. But the cores of the wizards. The wands were just a tool to guess at the soul.

And as they had said would happen, I was blinded. But I was also filled. Filled with images that Harry hid beneath the recesses of his soul. The memories he occluded from his own self. The abuse he had suffered every year at the hands of his relatives. How little help he had received from Albus Dumbledore. His determination to go on and make something of himself. He wouldn't let himself die. He couldn't. He favored his parents memory too much.

And it was in that moment that I realized just how very much alike we both were. We had lived the same life in two separate lifetimes. Harry Potter was not only mine. He was myself...

But I knew that Dumbledore would look straight into Harry's mind. And if he saw that I did nothing, he would know.

"Stun him!" I hoped no spell would hit him. I could not make the excuse not to take him than. But as always, luck sided with Harry Potter.

They disappeared and I watched as the boy ran, willing for him to flee for the first time in fourteen years. He would come to me and I would be patient. With his unlocked potential, Dumbledore would fall. I watched on as, ten feet from Cedric, Harry dived behind a marble angel to avoid the jets of red light and saw the tip of its wing shatter as the spells hit it.

"Impedimenta!" he bellowed, pointing his wand wildly over his shoulder at the Death Eaters running at him. I watched as Goyle fell but the boy didn't stop running. He jumped over the cup and dived as he heard more wand blasts behind him; more jets of light flew over his head as he fell, stretching out his hand to grab Cedric's arm...

"Stand aside! I will kill him! He is mine!" shrieked Voldemort. I would congratulate myself on my acting skill later.

Harry's hand had closed on Cedric's wrist; one tombstone stood between him and myself. But I knew Cedric was too heavy to carry, and the cup was just out of reach.

_Get out! Get out! Get out!_

I curled my mouth into a cruel smile and shot the killing curse just a second late as he screamed Accio. It was perfectly timed, perfectly played. I watched as the boy was taken back to Hogwarts and kept the smile from my face and I screamed my raging "fury" out on a few death eaters. Albus Dumbledore would fall.


	4. Chapter Four: Unwanted

**CHAPTER FOUR: UNWANTED**

******A/N Ok so this chapter will be done from Harry's perspective and i think maybe a few more will as well. We will see. WARNING: Contains mentions of rape. The more graphic chapter will be uploaded to my personal blog, which I will be posting a link to on my profile today.**

******DISCLAIMER: I own not the characters I just own the thread  
****And we all play in the imaginary sandbox I built-in my head  
****so thank you J.K. Rowling for the chance to play  
****the harry potter game in the imaginary sandbox today.**

*** H/V * H/V * H/V * H/V * H/V * H/V * H/V * H/V * H/V * H/V * H/V ***

He flew right in front of me and the wind made my eyes burn as I swooped to the right to avoid him. But the bludger was coming in fast. I had to perform a backflip to save myself from getting crushed and was almost hit by another Slytherin in the process, who I dodged beneath.

"Training for the ballet Potter?"

"Are you saying I'm more graceful than you, Ferret?"

He made a move to grab me and throw me off my broom but before he could catch me I dove to the ground, making him think I'd caught the snitch. I could hear Hermione screaming from the crowds and Hagrid's booming voice cheering me on.

"Harry, catch the snitch!"

"It's right in front of you Harry!"

"C'mon, catch it!"

The crowd's voices were like an echo in my head but they had no idea I was performing a wronski feint. I dived down down down as close to the ground as I can get and whirled myself back up barely a foot from the ground. Needless to say, Draco Malfoy had been right behind me and foolishly hit the pitch, allowing me to get back in the game and hope we were still winning.

I quickly looked at the scoreboard, pleased that we were still in the lead and I looked over to the speakers podium when I heard luna talking. That was when I saw it. There was a nick of gold right near the teachers. Was that an earring or...But no. The snitch was right near Snape's ear. Oh _this_ was going to be awkward. I shot up right for the teachers chairs and just as I was about to get there the snitch moved and I made a sharp turn that almost knocked me off my broom. I could hear the crowds cheering below, as well as boos from the Slytherin team.

_Harry, Harry, Harry, Harry_...

I blocked out the voices as much as I could. I had to concentrate. Malfoy had gotten a different, better broom and I had to stop him from getting the snitch. I rushed forward and began climbing, chasing after the snitch. I could feel Malfoy racing down my neck but eventually he called out "Fancy suicide, Potter?" And left.

I couldn't see the ground anymore as I was under a constant cover of clouds. I'm just glad it was sunny because it was raining the last time i did this. Not to mention there were dementors last time.

The snitch took off to the left and I veered my broom in order to be closer to catching it. But than it started climbing higher again. I could almost touch the sun, I'd never been so higher before. The feeling was exhilarating. Riding through the clouds, the water drenching my uniform. And than I saw a glint and took off after it again.

I reached out my hand and leaned forward trying to grasp it. I was always so close to catching it too. But it kept slipping out of my grasp just as I would touch it. It would fly higher...higher...higher. And I started slipping off my broom. I was almost hanging at the end of it. I tried to climb back on but it began shaking me off repeatedly and finally my sweaty hands could take no more.

It was a great cavernous hole that I found myself rushing into and I knew I would never survive the impact with it. But after what seemed like an eternity, I hit the cold hard ground with less force than I expected and watched as a flash of green light hit one of my friends square in the chest. I could hear a strange laugh in the background. Not the one I was expecting. But more kindly, grandfatherly, and yet so very cold.

_Harry, Harry, Harry, Harry_...

"Harry." Rap, rap, rap. "_Harry! _You have five minutes! Get. Up!"

I rolled over on my left side and sucked in a breath that my lungs protested to. I should have tried to get out of bed backwards on my right side. Though I would have fared better it would make no difference. My right leg screamed as I put weight on it for the first time since last night and my littlest toe was sticking out at a very awkward angle.

"Are you up?"

"Yes Aunt Petunia."

I walked out of my room to make the breakfast like she always expected. The first time I'd come out of my room in anything less than long sleeves, Aunt Petunia screamed at me that I was a freak. When I told her that Uncle Vernon did it she locked me in my cupboard for a week. I learned when I was young not to show any of my abnormalities whether the Dursleys were the cause of them or not. It was all common practice.

And where before I was used to it, now it was all I could do now to stay sane. I covered up the bruises pretty easily by wearing jeans and a long sleeve shirt. There was nothing I could do about the broken toe though. I would have to hope she wouldn't notice.

I began making breakfast almost immediately while Vernon complain about the whether, me, work, people at work, the bank, and me. "Cut your hair boy!"

I almost rolled my eyes. Things hadn't changed at the Dursleys. They were still just as severe as they were when I was a child. Every summer I expected it to be my last. Of course, I had written a slew of letters to Dumbledore. All of them gone unanswered until the very last one.

Professor Dumbledore,

I just woke up from my Aunt Petunia knocking me out with a frying pan. I really feel nauseous and I need to go get my head checked. I'm having a hard time hearing and I can't remember a lot of anything.

Harry

Professor Dumbledore,

I wasn't fast enough for Dudley's gang. They jumped me from behind and beat me up. A doctor actually told me he was going to take me to the hospital but I didn't know if I should go with him because of the Dursleys

Harry

I'd written far more letters than that but they all got progressively worse. The worst was the one that was most painful for me to write.

Professor Dumbledore,

I have to write this with broken fingers. Vernon beat me badly tonight. It hurts. I can't remember where I am all I know is I think my leg is broken, he broke all of my fingers, knocked one of my shoulders out of place, broke one of my wrists, some of my ribs, and I think my ankle might be broken. I smell a lot of blood. I think it might be my own and I'm having trouble breathing. Please, I need Saint Mungo's!

VERY URGENT,

Harry

Harry Potter,

Never before have you come to me with such wild accusations against your relatives. In fact, this is the first year you've done so. I know you are desperate to see your friends, but we must look at this logically. These are wild accusations that could have deadly serious repercussions for your family. Never before have you complained of these things to me. Why would you now but not earlier?

I give my sincerest apologies Harry, but I just don't believe the Dursleys are capable of injuring you like this. I will send an inspection team however to make sure you are ok. If you are, you will be punished I'm afraid. And if you are not, you will be taken to Saint Mungo's to heal and than put with the Dursleys for the remainder of the summer.

Best Regards,

Albus Dumbledore

Of course they came, just like he said. There was no hubbub, which I was grateful for. No one even knew I was in Saint Mungo's. They simply treated me and took me back to the abusive Dursleys where I was beaten as soon as they left for receiving freakish treatments and being a freak. Ah, home sweet home.

I began serving the bacon, ham, eggs, and toast to each member of my family and cleaned up the cooking dishes as quickly as I could. They had already taken their first helpings of breakfast, which meant I was now welcome to take what was left after Dudley had seconds.

I watched as he placed more on his plate and when he was done, I sat down and piled what little I could onto mine. I began eating as politely and as quickly as I could, scarfing my food down without a second thought. I knew I would have to eat fast if I wanted to eat anything at all. Luckily, I finished my last bite before anyone else had and was ready to wash their dishes. But my brain was busier than my body.

I couldn't figure out why Dumbledore would heal me and than stick me back with the abusive Dursleys. Even when it was proving extremely dangerous to my health, he still told me to go back. He said he could not in good conscious force me from their home. I knew there was a reason for it but he always told me I was never ready to hear it. Just like when I asked him why Voldemort was always trying to kill me. He always said I was never ready to hear that either. I think that was the first time I became suspicious of Albus Dumbledore. But his actions now only made me more suspicious. Why stick me with people that were repeatedly trying to kill me? What stops Voldemort from offing me here? In fact, what stops them from being worse than Voldemort?

After all, if the Dursleys wanted to kick me out they easily could. I knew there would be no forcing involved. They would give me my bags and things immediately and chuck me out on the street if they weren't loaded in gold for taking me in, in the first place. I had to wonder where they got all that gold and I wondered if Dumbledore was paying them to take me in. But why would he be so desperate to keep me here in a place where I could be killed? Maybe it was that Voldemort and his followers couldn't reach me here. After all, they'd never even tried, as though they knew if they did they would fail. It was an interesting concept. And if that was what Dumbledore was trying to keep from me, than why? And why was he keeping so much from me that pertained to me in the first place? My head was chasing it's tail trying to figure out the answer.

I weeded the garden, vacuumed the rest of the house, and dusted everything off, making sure all was spotless. It was by far time I got out of the house. Logic told me to sleep outside for the night so Vernon couldn't abuse me again but experience defied logic. When I slept outside once and came in the next morning, Vernon beat me worse. Aunt Petunia turned a blind eye and Dudley egged him on.

Beatings weren't as bad as their other punishments. But sometimes they could be if they went on for a long time. Sometimes I would pass out only to wake up later and be beaten more. Sometimes I wouldn't pass out and I would endure the whole thing. Those times were best because than I could pass out in my bedroom, the beating would be shorter, and no one would be any the wiser. After all, no one came in there anyway.

But one thing was for sure, sleeping away from the house only made a bad situation, worse.

Well, at least I didn't have to lock myself up in the house...usually. I was always told to "get out" after my chores were done. But something a little different happened tonight. Something I'd been counting on and waiting for.

"Me and your mother are going out and we are taking Dudley with us. You are to stay in your room boy and we _will_ know if you come out." But I doubted it. The twins had given me lessons on how to be sneaky and pick locks and spy. I always wondered why they weren't in Slytherin. But than again, somedays I wondered the same thing about me.

Vernon threw me roughly into my room and lock clicked, showing me the door was indeed 'impenetrable'. I winced at the protest that went through my body as several of my newly broken bones complained but I was used to telling them to shut up and I got up and watched discretely and nervously out the window until their car turned the corner and they were out of sight.

I didn't know where they were going but I knew I wouldn't have a lot of time until they got back. I pulled out the paperclip stuck underneath the leg of my dresser and began picking the lock on the door, a handy trick I'd learned form the twins in the summer before my hectic fourth year. I heard a click thankfully and stepped out, glad that it worked.

I knew I couldn't steal a lot from my own trunk because I would have to travel light. But I did know I would have to take Hedwig's key, the invisibility cloak, and my wand. When I got downstairs I picked the lock on the cupboard door and got what I needed, mad dashing upstairs and onto the landing as quickly as I dared, ignoring my protesting broken ribs, and various other broken bones. I threw my wand and invisibility cloak on the bed, unlocked Hedwig's cage, and opened the golden door as she gave me an affectionate nip for letting her out.

I gave her some bacon I'd stole at breakfast. It was all I had.

"Hedwig, I need you to leave everything behind and go hunt for as long as possible. Don't come back. I will call you when I need you but right now you need to run."

She nipped me worriedly.

"Don't worry girl, I've got plans to get out of here really, _really_ soon. Besides, I'm not friends with the twins for nothing." I smiled at her assuringly and she nuzzled me before she left. Little did I know just how quickly I would actually be getting out of here.

I ran downstairs and put the key back where it belonged, locked the cupboard back up, and ran back upstairs and locked my bedroom door. Than I hid my wand and invisibility cloak under my clothes. I was sick of being beaten. I was sick of being locked up. I was sick of being treated like nothing less than a houself. No one deserved this. And I'd had enough. This was my one chance to escape and I was going to take it. Protection from Voldemort be damned. Albus Dumbledore be damned. Nothing was worse than this. I would gladly endure a thousand Voldemort's than have to go through this. After all, at least Voldemort was my...

I found it strange that I couldn't think of him as my enemy, per se. But than again, I didn't really like Albus Dumbledore either. And at least Voldemort was honest about wanting to end my life. Funny. The man I never trusted has always been more honest than the man I didn't trust who lied out the side of his face. So I trusted Voldemort more than I trusted Dumbledore. In the end, what did that make me? I didn't really want to think about how insane that sounded. Instead, I waited patiently and eventually heard car doors slam and the front door open. Aunt Petunia opened my room and told me to let my filthy self out and to pack away the groceries. I was more than used to the verbal slurs against me to really think too much of it by now. It was childs play compared to what these monsters were capable of.

When that chore was done, there was still light outside and Dudley was already gone so I left too, steering clear of his gang's most favorite haunts.

I sat down on a swing and thought. I was doing a lot of thinking lately but there was no one there to keep me company but my own mind. It was the only way to keep myself sane. But the thoughts I was having were enough to drive anyone insane. They didn't make any sense at all. I was so tired of thinking but I was also tired of giving in. I was tired of taking every punishment I was given and now it was time to fight back. And not against what the wizarding world told me to fight.

I was going to fight for myself. For _my_ rights. I would do what I wished when I wished it and would claim my rights as a wizard. I didn't know how I would do it but there had to be a way. And I knew the place to do that was at Gringotts. That would be the first place I would have to go, besides the leaky cauldron. I would also have to break out my trunk and spell things and somehow find a way to get Hedwig's cage back.

I thought long and hard and was distracted when I saw Dudley's gang coming my way.

I thought about running but decided not to. Dudley and his little gang were going to get what they deserved even if I killed myself in the process of beating them all up. But before I could arm myself with the pocket knife (that I'd stolen from Dudley) hidden in my shoe, they decided to part ways quickly and I knew better than to provoke a fight. I felt strangely let down though.

I took a shortcut home so I could get there before Dudley did. If I got there after Dudley, I would be punished. I opened the door and traipsed up to my room immediately. I lay down trying to sleep but found I wouldn't be able to tonight. My body was tired by my mind was wide awake and there were too many thoughts running around in my head for me to get any rest. Like how in the name of Merlin did things get so out of whack so fast? But I wasn't watching the time when I should have been. And by the time I was even aware of the time it was too late.

I heard the ominous turning of the lock. The creaking of my bedroom door as it opened. The squeaking floor boards as the fat pervert stepped into the room. Cold sweat slowly dribbled down the back of my neck and froze in a spine chilling freeze. Nausea settled in the pit of my stomach but I wouldn't vomit..._I wouldn't vomit...I **wouldn't.**_

"Harry...my dear _sweet_ Harry. You've been a naughty horrible little boy haven't you?"

_I'm not going to vomit...I'm not going to vomit...I'm_ **not.**

"You know better than that Harry. Answer me when I'm talking to you."

_No. _Like I was going to give the great big pervert the satisfaction of an answer. If he did this, I wouldn't play along willingly.

"Does that mean you want it rough tonight Harry? Does that mean you want me to Dominate you?"

_I don't have much choice in the matter, do I?_

"Ok than my lovely little freak. As you wish."

It was ironic that he would grant me this thing that I didn't wish when I _did_ wish for so many other things that he would never think of giving. How just like Uncle Vernon.

He closed fist connected with my face and he kicked me in the ribs. I heard a sickening crack and felt an immediate piercing pain in my lungs. But that didn't stop him from breaking more bones and holding me down to the bed. Unlike his son, he was taller and fatter and much more difficult to struggle against. I was skinny and lithe. Strong but never strong enough.

I struggled wildly, kicking and screaming as he covered my mouth with his hand and pulled out a gag. "I remember the first time we did this Harry. You were responsive than too."

He held both my hands above my head and tied them to the post as I struggled to breath and the piercing pain in my lungs became worse. He undressed me in one fell swoop and I screamed as I was brutally violated.

I had experienced this too many times before. And yet, it wasn't something you got used to. Somehow, each time was by far more painful that the last. It was a never-ending bout of endless humiliation and pain with each thrust, with each stroke. And with each one I found it harder to breath. But if I endured it long enough and could make it to the end, it would be over...hopefully. And I could get out. That was what was important. Getting out. And lo and behold, I was right. Experience was the best teacher after all.

His fat sweaty body hung over mine for a moment and he smiled almost sweetly as he smoothed my hair in a mock of a caress. But I couldn't breath. Not even the shallow panting breaths that I had tried doing before. it was too much. "Thank you for a wonderful time as always Harry, my favorite little freak."

He undid the bonds on my hands and redressed himself, leaving me stained. I knew I would have to clean the bedsheets before morning because if I didn't clean them I would be beaten. However, how could I clean when I couldn't even move?

He waked out of my bedroom and I knew I wouldn't be able to sit up now. I pulled my wand out from between the mattresses where it was hidden, too much in pain to realize my state of undress. I only had one hope. I just hoped that this would work the same way it did with the knight bus. _"S-s-saint M-m-mungo's."_

For a second, nothing happened. But it only took a second for confused nurses to show up and gasp. With my last bit of saved air I begged, knowing I would die if they didn't help. "Please help me. My owls cage is sitting on my besides table, here is my wand, my cloak is between my mattresses and my trunk is in the cupboard under the stairs. Help me."

A mediwitch came to me immediately and I almost screamed as i felt my rib removed from my lungs. But it didn't puncture both of them, luckily. "We've got you now Harry Potter. No one will be told and we will be held under the strictest of confidences. Go to sleep. You are safe now."

I could only hope.

**A/N Ok I didn't ask for it before but now I will. And this may turn some of you off to the story completely but I'd like some reviews so I can hear your thoughts on the story and what I should do differently and what you would like me to improve.**


	5. Chapter Five: Saint Mungos

**CHAPTER FIVE: SAINT MUNGOS**

******A/N Ok so once again, this is from Harry's perspective and it may not actually be from Voldemorts for quite a few more chapter because I'm not exactly planning on working him in** **_just_ yet. It's too early for Harry to make that kind of decision anyways. And now, on to the story! By the way, I am SO glad I got all those reviews. It makes me wanna work overnight on this story until I'm at least three to five chapters in. Reviews make me finish the story quicker and get my brain juices flowing!**

******DISCLAIMER: I own not the characters I just own the thread  
****And we all play in the imaginary sandbox I built-in my head  
****so thank you J.K. Rowling for the chance to play  
****the harry potter game in the imaginary sandbox today.**

*** H/V * H/V * H/V * H/V * H/V * H/V * H/V * H/V * H/V * H/V * H/V ***

Waking up from the day after was probably the most painful thing about my summers. The only thing that could be more painful was the humiliation. That next year I would have to go back and be ridiculed for leaving dirty sheets and Dudley would know. His gang would know. And the summer would be worse than ever. I turned over on my side, ready to groan at the pain but there was none. I sat up confused, and remembered where I was.

"We got your cloak, wand, and trunk dear. No one is any the wiser you are here in Saint Mungo's. You're safe. You've also been given a private room, free of charge."

"No, no. You don't have to do that. I've got loads of money I could give you. Just name your price and I'll be happy to pay it."

"I won't hear another word about it. We Mediwitches and Mediwizards actually pulled galleons out of our own pockets to help pay for this room. You needed it far more desperately than anyone else. And I'm already aware you don't like being fussed over or all the attention you get. It must be overwhelming."

"Overwhelming, intruding, upsetting, and annoying."

"I figured as much. Your a good person Mr. Potter. And one that deserves to be saved. You gave up your life to protect ours. Lived an abnormal life so we could live our healthy and safe. You nearly killed yourself in the triwizard tournament to save someone who was not yours to save. I admit, you do Gryffindor proud."

"I just wanna help. I don't like a big fuss over things. Besides, she was just a kid. Kids don't deserve to die."

"No they don't. But you fail to realize Mr. Potter-"

"Please call me Harry."

"Alright than...Harry." She smiled briefly. "You fail to realize you yourself, even with all that you've been through, you are still a child. You're nearly an adult, but not quite there yet. That is one of the reasons we worked so very hard to save your life Harry is because you are right, no child deserves to die. In fact, if we hadn't acted as fast as we did, you would be dead. The punctured hole in your lung was particularly hard to heal because of the extensive damage it received but after four days of constant potions, monitoring, and spells, we patched that right up."

Four days? It usually only took overnight to heal someone. Not _four days..._

"And your bones...some of them could be re-broken and reset. But others had to be regrown. You would have had abnormalities in your old age otherwise. And your shoulder was heavily dislocated but pushing it back was no problem."

I moved my arm experimentally but nothing felt wrong...except the bit of muscle surrounding it. It was still lean muscle but...it was actual muscle.

"We also found you are extremely undernourished, you do not eat enough, your body only barely recognizes food, and the lack of nutrients to your system has stunted your growth. We put you under potions to heighten your growth rate to where you should be and your body will continue to exhibit the puberty you only barely entered at eleven."

"How could I have barely entered puberty?"

I felt like slapping my hand to my head, embarrassed I even asked. But she didn't seem to mind...of course she didn't! She was a doctor!

"Hormones in a wizard or witches body create magic. You have always had a high concentration of magical hormones in your body however, for eleven years, your body had to use them to keep you from feeding off yourself and to keep you alive. As a child, my guess would be that you barely had enough nutrients to survive. So by the time you reached eleven, your body recognized puberty but could only give so many hormones to do the job because it was too focused on keeping you alive."

I was floored by what living at the Dursleys had done to me. I knew they messed me up, but I didn't want to think about it. In fact, I never really thought about it all until now. But with all that they've done to me...Dumbledore should have pulled me out in my first three years living there. Not let me stay as long as I have.

All that the nurse was telling me...it was a lot to take in. How my life had been so messed up simply because Dumbledore put me on their doorstep. Maybe Voldemort _and_ Dumbledore were monsters.

But what about Voldemort? He was obsessed with immortality, he killed and tortured people, he demanded worship, he hated love. He was insane now. But everyone had a beginning. Everyone had to start somewhere. What turned Voldemort evil? What turned him into the person he was today? What was his story? If Voldemort really was evil as everyone claimed, than why? It was a disturbing train of thought. And one I would have to think about later.

"I have to address one other thing because, by wizarding law, I'm obligated. I already know you don't like a big fuss over things and I understand how this may be highly embarrassing to you and shameful but-"

"I'm ok. Really. My friends told me a long time ago it's not my fault and that Vernon was a sick bastard. It's been hard to face but...erm, well...I'm better now." My face was probably redder than Neville's was when he made a mistake.

"Well, if you ever need anyone to talk to, there are services available."

"That's ok. I'm ok. So how long have I been in here?"

"Close to a week. About two days short of a weeks hospital stay."

I was grateful for the accepted change in subject but shocked at the answer. I'd been in here almost a full _week_ trying to heal from my injuries. How could Dumbledore not count that as abuse? Unless...he got rid of the evidence to keep me under the blood protection. But would Dumbledore do anything like that? Well, he brought a private healing team in so my injuries wouldn't be recorded. He hid the evidence once. Why not try to do it again? I couldn't be completely sure about anything but one thing was for sure. I certainly wouldn't put it past him. Not anymore.

"So has anyone visited me since I've been here? And who will have a access to my record here?"

"Your guardian came by to visit you once but we couldn't let him in. Your wounds were too severe and the doctors had to keep watch on you round the clock to make sure you weren't slipping into a coma. Also, he requested we give him the record of your stay, but the record had not yet been made so he couldn't see it. In answer to your second question, only you and your magical guardian may have access to your records."

"Who is my guardian?"

She cocked her head, looking at me strangely. "You don't know who your magical guardian is? You are supposed to see him at least once every year from the day you were born."

"I've been in and around my house loads of times. I've never seen him."

She paused for a moment before asking. "Are you sure?"

"Positive."

"Than I'm surprised and I think sorry, to say your magical guardian is Albus Dumbledore. Busy man or not, he should have been coming to see you regularly."

No. _Him?_ The man who ignored me every single time I was close to death was my magical _guardian?_ The man who lied to my face repeatedly was in charge of my well being? Somebody _please_ wake me up. I'm having another nightmare.

"How can I make sure he doesn't have access to these records?"

"Why wouldn't you want him to?"

"I've written several letters to Albus Dumbledore because he's my headmaster and I thought he could help me. But all my letters were ignored except the very last one I sent. And than he sent a private team of Saint Mungo's experts to come and collect me from the Dursleys, heal me, than put me back in that...house."

To say she looked shell shocked would be an understatement. To say she was enraged would be the biggest understatement of the century.

"He put you back in a house that you were looked down upon, never loved, ridiculed constantly, treated worse than a house-elf, beaten to death, and raped?"

I flinched at the last part but she was right. "That about sums is up nicely. He said he could not, in "good conscious" put me anywhere else. When I asked him why he wouldn't tell me but I think it's because of my mothers sacrifice. I was told my mothers love granted me protection. And I know that blood makes magic stronger so I think I might have blood protection with the Dursleys since they are my relatives and Voldemort and his death eaters have never even tried to get in there."

She went extremely quiet for a moment, staring at me. "I didn't think of that but you may actually be right. You know, would be better suited for a house like Ravenclaw...or even Slytherin if it was a different house than the one it is today."

"The sorting hat was going back and forth between putting me in Ravenclaw and Slytherin but in the end, it really wanted to put me in Slytherin. I actually chose Gryffindor."

She pulled up a chair and sat down next to my bed. "I wasn't aware you even got to choose. I tried that because I wanted to be in Ravenclaw like my sister but the hat still put me in Gryffindor. But if you were able to choose the house of Gryffindor, even if the hat wished it otherwise, it had to put you in. It can't deny it's own lord."

"Lord?"

She leaned closer to my bed. "Mr.-erm, Harry, I need you to listen very clearly. We would like to have copies of those letters in our possession. Albus Dumbledore will still hold weight over you legally, I'm afraid. But once this comes to light, his access to you and decisions regarding you would be limited. The ministry would have control."

"That's even worse!"

"I'm aware of that. I was raised in the muggle world and I found that some things in the wizarding world are closer to the muggles world than we once realized. Do you know what emancipation is?"

"Having full control over your own rights even if you are below the age of a legal adult."

"Exactly. The wizarding world has something similar to emancipation. It's possible even at your age. Though their most likely route would be to want to put you in the hands of another magical guardian, you could choose emancipation if you wished. Most likely, the odds would be in your favor. The courts would also most likely be swayed to you over Dumbledore with the evidence from these letters, as the wizarding community at large does not react well at all to a child in danger."

"I don't like court. But if there's no other option, I'll take it. Anything to get out of the Dursleys."

"There is another, less messy option, that would mean automatic emancipation from Dumbledore or anyone holding authority over you. It was well known that the Potters were the Lords of Gryffindor and that they descended from his line. If you were to accept the title of the Lord of Gryffindor you would gain rights above and beyond what even most legal adults have."

She checked me over with a few diagnostic spells. Her advice was bloody brilliant. "But I don't want to be lord of anyone."

She laughed briefly. "And you won't. Lords have a high standing in all areas of the ministry and have access to everything and all information it holds. The pureblood community, the wizarding community, and all other communities obey lords and take their advice. Even pureblood families. And they usually own the deeds to manors and title rings. But there must not be another living magical descendent of that line or one closer to it than you. To the best of my knowledge, the only Lords of Gryffindor left are Albus Dumbledore and yourself. I don't know whose bloodline is closer so that will have to be found by the Goblins, but you still have a chance Harry. You can get yourself away from there, despite Dumbledore."

"I would like that."

"Than as soon as we get the copies, it's off to Gringotts with you. I wish you the very best of luck Harry."

"Thank you so much for all your help. I'll always remember what this hospital has done for me and if you ever need anything at all, don't hesitate to ask. Expect to see something from me in the future."

I checked through my trunk for the letters which she immediately made copies of and she left me to dress myself.

"My only advice left is please don't overexert yourself, Harry. I know how prone you and your friends are to adventures and I would hate to see anything even more terrible happen to you that what already has."

"It won't. Strangely enough, I don't usually get _that_ badly hurt on adventures."

She laughed briefly. "No one can deny you are extremely lucky at those times. Well, as far as I can see, you have a clean bill of health Harry and are ready to go. Since I see no problems with your health, you may be released. But if you have any pain in your lungs, any at all, I suggest you inform myself or your school nurse immediately."

"But I'm a seeker on the Hogwarts Quidditch team. I've always got pain in my lungs after practice."

"I mean more than your usual overexertion or winded pains. If it becomes so terrible that it's difficult or near impossible to breath, get to the nurse immediately."

"I will. I have one more question."

"And that is?"

"What stopped the press from finding this out and hounding me?"

"That was one of the reasons for the private room. What happens in this room medically goes on record and stays on record but only very few have access to the information. And the public is not one of them. Also, we Mediwitches and Mediwizards are bound by our code to keep whatever we see, private. That is why you will never see a man or woman in this hospital give information to an outside source. We can't even tell other patients. And until we had your say so, not even your guardian was allowed to know the extent of your injuries, just that you were injured. If we give private information out about a patient, the code will invalidate itself and we will lose our credibility as healers and have to choose a different profession. It's a very private business to be honest. You have to respect other people's privacy legally."

That was interesting. Instead of a Quidditch career or a career as an Auror like everyone expected, maybe I could be a Mediwizard instead. I liked helping people, I could keep someones secret to the grave, and I didn't actually like intruding on others privacy, contrasted to Snape's opinion.

"Well thank you for all you've done for me today. I should get to Gringotts now though."

"There's a good lad. Be off now. And good luck."

"Thank you."

I would have to remember to refill each of those doctors pockets who helped pay for my room. And money left in the hospitals name wouldn't be so bad either. They could always use more mediwitches and mediwizards on the payroll.


	6. Chapter Six: A Stay At The Inn

**CHAPTER SIX: A STAY AT THE INN**

******A/N I was just so excited from the amount of reviews that I got that I kept going so after chapter five was done I started work on chapter six and chapter seven and chapter eight. lol. So here it is. Chapter Six. Lol! Keep giving me reviews and I'll keep popping out chapter after chapter! Reviews fill me with glee! Chapter seven is already done and I'm halfway through chapter eight! Also, the Tom in my story is the original Tom we see in the Sorcerer's (Philosopher's) Stone.**

******DISCLAIMER: I own not the characters I just own the thread  
****And we all play in the imaginary sandbox I built-in my head  
****so thank you J.K. Rowling for the chance to play  
****the harry potter game in the imaginary sandbox today.**

*** H/V * H/V * H/V * H/V * H/V * H/V * H/V * H/V * H/V * H/V * H/V ***

I sat in the back of the pub at the leaky cauldron and was rummaging through my trunk for anything money wise I could get my hands on. I wasn't greedy usually, but not when I didn't have a bloody knut on me. I was annoyed. I hoped I could find some galleons in there somewhere and I _knew_ I had a pouch that had at least 10 galleons in it. I just saw it a few fucking _minutes_ ago at that blasted hospital! I _needed_ that pouch! That would be enough to get me a room for the night before I went to Gringotts and paid the inn keeper to stay longer. But I needed that fucking money!

I was about to kick my trunk and throw it across the room when after thirty minutes I couldn't find anything. I was about to kick my stupid trunk as hard as I could but than I saw it. Right there at the top after rummaging for close to about thirty minutes, I finally found what I was looking for. My money pouch. I felt like I could cry in relief, which felt really strange. I breathed in, locked my trunk up, and pulled it behind me. "Excuse, me, Tom?"

"Harry Potter! What can I do for you lad?"

I was so sick of people knowing my name. "I'd like to rent a room for the night."

"Not a problem my boy. Not a problem. That will be 5 galleons 6 sickles and 2 knuts."

"Here's six galleons. I don't have any sickles or knuts on me. I have to stop by Gringotts later."

I watched as the money magically sorted itself out and landed in his hand. I loved magic.

"I'd say so, Mr. Potter. Your change is 10 sickles and 27 knuts and your room will be upstairs the first door on your right."

"Thanks."

I walked straight up to my room and decided to organize my trunk, feeling more angry by the second at how long it took me to find anything. Now on a normal day, I would love Hermione. She was super smart, wicked fast, and punched Draco Malfoy in the face in third year. Something I wished I could do at this moment, just for a face to crunch. But right now, I was annoyed with the undetectable extension charm she did on my trunk. I briefly thought about setting the damn thing on fire before I started organizing it.

_I really should get sleep before going to Gringotts._

I reached in and scooped out everything on top, disgruntled when I saw there was still more packed in. I scooped out everything that rose to the top yet again. And after about ten times of doing this, I could finally see the bottom of my trunk, but I couldn't see the top of my bed. It took about an hour to organize both piles into two separate big piles of what I could and couldn't keep.

I ended up throwing away broken quills, empty non refillable ink wells, and old sneakascopes and presents that didn't work anymore. When all that was gone, I sorted through a huge stack of clothes, some of which were still from my first year at Hogwarts! I separated all the clothes, folded them, and put them into four stacks. First year, second year, third year. I did it at fast and as precise as I could. Trying not to think about anything.

I tried to put on one of my shirts from fourth year but it was like trying to fit into a puppets clothes. Was I really so small? I knew I could either take my fourth year clothes down to the second hand robes shop or I could give them to a friend. I briefly thought of Ginny, who was going into fourth year. Some of this was guys stuff but Ginny could probably get some use out of _some _of it. At least her parents wouldn't have to buy her tattered torn books this year.

I was about to call Hedwig when I remembered that I'd sent her away for a couple of days. And I knew that if she didn't come right now, I'd probably cook her. I opened up my window and called out as loud as I could. "Hedwig!" It felt good to yell.

I quickly scribbled a note to Ginny on some spare parchment and by the time I was done, Hedwig was already swooping in through the window. I gave her some never- stale everlasting owl treats. "I need you to take this package and letter to Ginny Weasley and see if she can get any use of out of it. Than you can come home and rest for a little while. I'll see you when I get back."

Her hoot was as affectionate as a huge and she was off through the open window. But I wasn't about to feel better right now. I was just thankful I could suffer in silence.

I packed up all of my clothes from different years and put them in boxes marking them first year (Gryffindor), second year (Gryffindor), third year (Gryffindor). I couldn't get any use out of them but other people probably could. The books could also be taken to a second hand book store. I didn't really care how much I got for it. Just as long as I got rid of it.

The mess pile on my bed had gotten really small. By the end, all I had left was my one grayish green muggle t-shirt, my jacket, and my jeans. My clothes and robes from last year wouldn't even fit me anymore when I tried to get into them. Whatever potions that nurse had given me, they really worked.

Rap, rap, rap...

I looked towards the window, shocked that Hedwig was already back but I didn't see her anywhere. And the window was open.

Rap, rap, rap...

I looked towards the door and snatched my wand from the bed. I wasn't as stupid as to think this wasn't a trick of Dumbledore's or Voldemort's. And if it was Malfoy I would more than happily blow his head off. Anything to hear his little bones crunch under my hand. I stood behind the door and opened it up. I was hiding behind the door, ready the pounce on the stranger who entered my room but I heard nothing. I wasn't about to peak around the door but I peaked through the crack and I could still see a sliver or what looked like a black cloak. It wasn't Dumbledore.

I was strangely disappointed at the thought. If there was anyone I wanted to kill, it was him. The stranger at my door was was still standing there. Than I heard footsteps as whoever it was walked into the room and I closed the door with a bang, keeping my wand trained on him and a protego shield charm up.

"Turn around _very_ slowly if you don't want to drop dead." I wasn't about to let a death eater get the one up on me. But if it were a death eater, we would have already been dueling. And this man wasn't wearing a mask. I was let down again. Where was someone to fight when you really wanted to kill?

As if handling a poisonous cobra, the man slowly turned around and showed me his hands to show that he meant no harm. I wish he hadn't. I wanted an excuse to hex him. Than he slowly pulled back his hood. Fear was replaced with relief, confusion, and anger. I was confused as to why _this_ man was standing at my door. Relieved that it wasn't a death eater. And angry because that sick fuck didn't have the gall to come and face the boy he'd nearly killed himself. No. He had to send his _servant_ to do it. I really wanted to kill Albus Dumbledore.

"Professor Snape."

"Apparently, unless you've suddenly taken to calling all your enemies by my name."

_Give me an excuse Snape. Just one._

He took in my bed for a moment and the mess that befuddled it with a critical eye. "Where have you been, Mr. Potter? Why, when I tried to find you, were you not at the home of your aunt and uncle?"

"I left."

"Obviously. Why?"

I wasn't about to give him anymore information on the subject so I pointed to a chair. I wasn't about to treat my unwelcome "guest" anymore kindly than he treated me.

"Sit. They're bringing tea. And mind the mess, I'm cleaning out my trunk."

He was about to say something but his lips thinned and he sat without another word and continued to watch as I sorted through what was left of the small pile on my bed, sorting out what was broken and what was not at breakneck speed. I felt more agitated than before. And definitely angrier.

"If you have such astute organizational skills, why not use them to your benefit instead of letting them be wasted?"

"What do you think I'm doing?" I challenged.

"Why didn't you decide to do this before?" He stared right back.

"I didn't even realize it was this bad before. I've been kinda busy recently." With Voldemort rising from the dead, getting beaten, almost _dying..._

"I hate this trunk."

"Buy a new one."

"As soon as I get my fucking money from Gringotts."

He ignored my language. I didn't notice. "How did you pay for a room?"

"By scruffing galleons from my bloody impossible trunk." I kicked the side of it. Snape nodded in understanding. There was a kind of strange peace coming from him that wasn't normally in any room that contained his presence. And strangely enough he wasn't being as rude as usual, which I was thankful for. I was so tired of fighting.

"So, did your wonderful master Dumbledore send you to grovel and beg me to go back?"

"No." His tone was sharp. "I saw you rummaging through your trunk for thirty minutes and was wondering why in the name of Merlin you weren't at your aunt and uncles."

"I'm not going back."

"Or so you believe."

"Why are you here _Snape_? It makes no sense to seek out the presence of someone you hate. Or are you here to torture me to? Let's all have some fun with Harry James Potter, shall we?! 50 points if you kill him, 100 points if you can get him to CRACK!" I threw an ink bottle at the wall where it shattered, much to my amusement.

"You will address me as-"

"I will address you respectfully when you cease your petty threats. And if you decide to continue I will have you thrown out for harassment!"

I wasn't up for this right now. I couldn't deal with this. I just wanted to be alone. I wanted to rage. I wanted to kill. I wanted to rip and tear and scream...no. I didn't want to scream. I wanted to make him scream. Just _why_ did everyone think I needed saving? And what was _he_ going to do about it?

"I have half a mind to take you back to-"

"YOU TAKE ME BACK AND I'LL RIP YOU APART YOU SICK PIECE OF SHIT!"

I blinked and looked at my wand, which was at his throat. And at my hand, which was choking him, my nails were digging into his neck, drawing blood. That felt so good. He looked up at me in blank shock, as though this was the last thing he was expecting. I wanted more. I wanted to kill him. I wanted to kill the man who insulted my father. Insulted me. Made my life hell year after year after year. But than I saw the blood. _Really_ saw the blood, leaking from his neck. And my anger evaporated.

_I didn't do that. I didn't do that._ _I didn't do that...I didn't do that...I didn't...I wouldn't..._

"You. You did this. Get out."

I kept my shaking hands busy with organizing my quills and recyclable ink wells but he remained in his chair, watching. Always watching. Why did they always have to watch? Couldn't I ever just be left alone like everyone else? Couldn't I just be normal? My eyes burned. My heart thudded against my chest. I did everything I could to keep the tears away. I wouldn't cry for _him._ I wouldn't cry for Snape. They were both bastards. And neither deserved a lick of my trust. Besides, I was stronger than this. Why should I cry? I was angry.

"Are you _deaf_?! Cat got your tongue _Professor?_ Or has Merlin blessed me finally with your fantastic newfound ability to _CEASE SPEAKING_!" I didn't mean to begin shrieking at him. But I was quickly losing control.

His hands found my vibrating arms and he sat me on the bed. But I didn't want to sit. I wouldn't let him hold me down! And so I struggled! Of course I struggled! I would kill him. I would-

"Your safe Harry. I'm not going to hurt you. I don't want to help you. You can help yourself. All I want to do is find out what's going on and why you are not safe. And if you tell me, I will leave you alone."

I was still ready to rage. But I was also ready to curl up and cry. But I wouldn't. Not until he left.

"This is chamomile. It will calm your system and than-"

"If you try to take me anywhere I will find a way to end your life."

Snape looked at me for a long moment, calculating. But whatever he found, made him believe me. Things had changed over the summer, things he was only just beginning to realize. He softened his tone considerably but I still didn't trust him. He would report back to Dumbledore. He would-

"I only said I have half a mind to take you back. The other is questioning why you ran in the first place."

And I couldn't sit still again. I just felt so agitated! So angry! "I don't know why people like you always do this to me! First the ministry hounding me everywhere I go! I can't get a moment's peace without _someone_ having to come up and disturb me! And than I get people like you who think I need rescuing! News flash! I'm here! After facing Voldemort _three fucking times_ and I'm still _alive_! I'm still here! I've kept myself breathing! Is that not good enough for you? Is that not proof that I can take care of my own fucking self?! Just leave me _ALONE!_"

I jumped as flames from the candles around the room touched the ceiling.

"You are out of control. You must calm down now before you suffer magical overload. Drink your tea and explain to me what's happening."

I didn't want to drink my tea. But it sounded like a good idea suddenly. I was thirst. And than I was hungry...ravenous. I smelled soup on the bedside and immediately replaced the tea with soup, eating all that I could.

"You eat like a starved dog. Slow down or you'll hurt yourself."

"I'm fine." I continued eating. I always ate like this. I was just so desperate for something to eat that I would eat anything. I didn't even realize I was hungry.

"That doesn't hurt?"

"Should it?"

My food was gone in a matter of five minutes and I felt full. Less angry. I felt slow.

"I made a promise to someone very important, not Dumbledore." He said quickly, finding my expression alarming. "But someone else. Someone extremely important to me. I promised her I would look after you. I thought Professor Dumbledore was doing a good job of keeping you safe and protected. Yet when confronted you act like a wild starved agitated half-crazed dog. What happened to you this summer Harry?"

"The same thing that happens every summer. I did chores. I went to sleep."

"Why were you in Saint Mungo's?"

"HOW DID YOU KNOW I WAS IN SAINT MUNGOS!"

"I didn't ask them if that's what you are inferring. You know very well they are under a tight wizarding statute of secrecy. I was...keeping a promise to an old friend. And no it wasn't Dumbledore."

"Who than?"

"Your mother. Now listen to what I'm about to tell you closely Harry and let no one else tell you differently. Your parents at one time were members of The Order of the Phoenix, an organization led by Albus Dumbledore, dedicated to fighting dark witches and wizards all over britain. Your father was approached three times by different deatheaters your mother twice. The second time was when James decided, with a nudge from Lily, that it would be best to leave to Order of the Phoenix. The last time she was approached, I would assume, was by the dark lord himself, as I begged him to spare her. Each time they declined but they knew if asked again, they would be killed. At that time, the dark lord was merciless. I asked him to spare your mother but..."

"He killed her right in front of me because she wouldn't move."

He nodded, forging on. "That night, she wrote a letter to me, asking me to protect you with everything I had, even if it meant my own death. She said she would reward me greatly for it when she saw me again. And...before I say anything more, listen to me. She never regretted you Harry. Realize that now. Your parents loved you, adored you, and were prepared to give their own lives for yours without a second thought, just as I would. Though I know you despise the thought of anyone dying for you."

"I hate the thought of anyone dying period. I don't mind dying, I just hate death."

"Your mother felt the same. But it's a reality in war, as she soon learned. In our fifth year of school, we were engaged to be married. But a fight between us broke it off. And no matter how I tried to apologize, she wanted nothing to do with me. I didn't know at that time she was under the influence of a spell. Your father and mother were used by Albus Dumbledore as..._breeding_ partners to create a weapon greater than any known to mankind."

I would have slapped him if he hadn't used that in a derogatory way towards Dumbledore but he was right. Dumbledore _did_ use them as breeding partners, if Snape was telling the truth. But his guard was down for the first time in what was probably decades. He wouldn't lie to me about this and he could probably prove it too. I was even more disgusted.

"Dumbledore craved a weapon that would win the war against the dark lord, a war I knew should have never begun. I knew of your mothers lineage that Albus hid from her and everyone else, back when I was in my fifth year. Everyone who was within a ten mile radius of your father knew his lineage, which was legendary. And from them both, came you. And I was enraged. I...held her body...as you sat there crying with me as I held her. And of all people, I blamed you for her death. You, who should never have been born. I left you there. And than you came to Hogwarts and I saw your father. Gloating, cold, calloused and cruel and spitting everything right back in my face. For me, you were my substitute for him. I never saw your mother in you because I saw only what I wished to see."

"Do you have her letter? I want to believe you but I also want proof."

He pulled a parchment envelope out of his pocket, which looked rather strange. "I fetched this before I came to see you."

"Why does it feel so odd?"

"I had the letter and the envelope laminated so they wouldn't receive wear and tear with time. Please be careful with it. It's all I have left."

I felt sorry for him and treated her letter like glass.

_Dear Severus,_

_On the last night of my life I have come to terms with_

_what should have been dealt with long ago. I was cast_

_under a spell, as was James, by none other than Albus _

_Dumbledore himself._

_The spell he cast was diabolical. But please know that I_

_never once stopped loving you. It's just by the time the_

_spell wore off, I already had a husband and a son. I am _

_so __sorry __Severus. I would never go back and change _

_things __now__ because I have Harry. But if I could still have_

_ him __anyway __regardless of who I was with, I would have _

_picked __you. You __know I would have picked you._

_Now I'm asking you, begging you, to pick Harry. Pick me._

_ Pick my blood. Honor my __wish and look after him. If he is_

_ anything like James, I cannot __ask that you love him. But_

_ I beg of you to look after him and __keep him alive, as I will_

_no longer be able to. I will die __for my son tonight and I ask_

_ the same of you. Please __Severus, If you love me, you will _

_do this._

_And if you do, than when you die, you will be rewarded. I_

_will make sure of it. _

_I know you do not understand why I __do not run from _

_Voldemort. __And please Severus, don't shudder as I __know _

_you __are doing at this __moment as you read his __name. I, in _

_fact, implore you to __teach __my __own son to __use his name. _

_For fear __of a name only __increases fear __of the __object itself._

_Now tonight, I have seen my end and will face it willingly. _

_There is no other __way.__ Understand __that Albus would create _

_a more destructive end for all of __us if we were to survive. I _

_beg you to forgive me for this._

_All my love,_

_Lily_

_Goodbye is not forever Severus_

"She was right. He would have combined your power with theirs and created a monster that would have made Salazar Slytherins stomach turn."

"So she left the order of the phoenix?"

"She did. I have several letters where she stated to me that she did not trust Dumbledore."

Things were quiet for a long moment.

"How did she know she was going to die?"

"Your mother was a gifted seer. By far more gifted than even Cassandra Trelwany."

Things were quiet for a moment as the Professor sipped his tea, before speaking. "I wasn't able to see past your fathers features and see you. And for that, I apologize. You look like your father but your personality is completely reminiscent of your mothers. Let me guess, those packages on your bed are for second hand robes and second hand book stores."

"Yeah. How did you know?"

"Because your mother would do the same thing. She didn't believe in wasting anything given to her and when she could no longer use whatever she was given she would recycle it if possible, try to find another use for it, or give it to someone who needed it. She was quite the inventive woman, your mother. In starting Hogwarts, she already bought recyclable ink quills and ink wells."

I laughed at the thought of my mom doing something I did. I never realized I was so much like her before.

"You know, your mother eventually switched to recyclable self-refillable ink wells."

"They have those?"

"These days they also have everlasting recyclable self-refillable ink quills. As your mother would put it 'They're expensive but worth it.'"

"Oh Merlin! That's what I wrote Hermione yesterday!"

His face was still made of stone by his eyes were warmer and if you looked closely you could see them laughing.

"Look, I know I may have acted a lot like my dad in the beginning. But I was wondering if we could just start over?"

He shook my hand and murmured something I barely heard about bi-gones and out of control teenagers.

He leaned back and sipped the last of his tea.

"So how did you know I was in Saint Mungo's?"

"I watched you as they brought you in. I keep tabs on you ever summer, making sure that you are alive. Apparently, it's not the dark lord that we need to worry about the most. When they brought you in, bones in your body weren't just broken. They were shattered. _You_ were shattered. And you were profusely bleeding. You were in there for almost an entire week before they let you out. But you didn't talk to anyone about it, did you?"

I didn't want to talk about this.

"Harry, I'm not asking you to talk about it. I didn't talk about it either. I never have. I'm not going to say I know everything you've been through. Nor will I go into details. Let's just say the 'hazing' process of joining the death eaters these days was not what it used to be."

"Why? What changed?"

"The dark lord himself was disgusted and enraged by the after activities and tortured all those who had ever taken place in something like that."

Now was the question I'd been itching to ask. "So is he really different from what everyone expects him to be?"

"Am I different from what you'd expect?"

Well, that was that. "So how do you know when I'm in danger?"

"Every single summer the watch glass at my house would chime and it would chime almost daily, especially when I would sleep. But it would slowly die down. That night, the chiming woke me up and was so loud, people for at least a mile were reporting strange sounds. But instead of slowing or qieting down, it began screaming, vibrating and when it just stopped out of nowhere, I thought you were dead. I went to Saint Mungo's to check for dead body's but you'd somehow managed to keep your heart beating when they brought you in. When I saw Albus...I hid. And thankfully he didn't recognize me. I saw him first hand putting one of the nurses under a spell to take your records, most likely to burn them. But even with the spell, he could do nothing. The records of your injuries hadn't yet been recorded or made. And I made sure that as soon as they were, I stole them and filed them with the ministry. I know for a fact that Albus Dumbledore has no power there, which is why he's so against them. As of the day your records were filed, your aunt, uncle and cousin were brought up on charges of abuse, child endangerment, and neglect. Your uncle will be brought up on charges of abuse, neglect, child endangerment, and rape."

I looked at Snape like I'd never seen him before in my life. I didn't know him. I couldn't. There was no way he would do this for me, even if he _had_ promised my mother.

"Why?"

"Because you have your mothers eyes. Some part of her still lives in you. And I'm not about to let that part die. I promised her you would be safe. Now drink your tea and try to calm your heart rate."

"I'm not going back to the Dursleys?"

"No."

"Than I want to go to Gringotts. I want to get emancipated. I can take care of myself and I want nothing to do with Dumbledore."

"Very well than. It would be wise to fetch yourself a financial advisor in this instance who knows the laws well. If Dumbledore did anything to your vault he most likely tricked the goblins into thinking it was legal. I would help but I only know so many laws. Count yourself lucky you have friends like Granger."

"I'm sorry for trying to kill you Professor."

He was quiet for a long moment. "That was the first thing I did when I woke up as well. Though it took you much longer I'll admit. If you ever need to speak with anyone at Hogwarts about anything, I am always in the Dungeons. You know where my office is. If you can't find me, tell a Slytherin you have detention."

He smirked which made me laugh. I always had detention with him. It was ironic. "Thank you for what you did."

"I wouldn't let Lily's son go back to a place like that."

"Do you think...maybe when I come to Hogwarts, you can tell me more about my mom?"

He looked at me for a long moment before nodding. "Thank you Professor. From what I heard from Sirius, you knew her best."

"I did." He opened the door and left the room, disappearing down the hall in an instant.


End file.
